The Swan Girl
by Cassidy La Fayette
Summary: June, 1877. 11 year old Bella Swan has been sent to live with her estranged father in Avonlea, PEI, after the death of her mother. Plainspoken but sweet, Bella immediately captures the hearts and imaginations of her classmates - none more so than young Edward Masen. But Bella's strange upbringing means it may take time to adjust to Avonlea and her reclusive, taciturn father...
1. A Surprise in Avonlea

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and Anne of Green Gables belongs to L.M. Montgomery

* * *

Based loosely on _Anne of Green Gables._

* * *

**June, 1877. Eleven-year-old Isabella Swan has been sent to Avonlea, PEI, Canada, to live with her estranged father after the death of her mother. American, outspoken, and sweet, she immediately captures the hearts and imaginations of all her new classmates—but none so much as Edward Masen. However, in his haste to get the new girl's attention, an intense one-sided scorn is born. Having had very little upbringing in America, it may take take time for Bella to adapt to her new life and reclusive father...**

* * *

_Fathers, be good to your daughters_  
_Daughters will love like you do_  
_Girls become lovers, who turn into mothers_  
_So, mothers, be good to your daughters, too_

—"Daughters," John Mayer

* * *

Chapter One: A Surprise in Avonlea

Mrs. Sue Clearwater, widowed mother of two, had long ago fled her widow's retreat from society. She'd had to, for her late husband had left her with just a house, her _very_ young twin children, and her name with not a cent to it. Luckily, an opportunity—honorable and discreet—had presented itself almost as soon as true need struck her family: the reclusive Charles Swan, living far back on the hill in his large, empty house, suddenly needed a housekeeper and cook.

What for, Mrs. Sue couldn't imagine, for Charles Swan had always gotten on by himself in that big house. It had been the talk of the town when his wife had left him ten years ago, taking their infant daughter with her. No one knew just _why _Renée Swan had gone, but it was certain that Mr. Swan had always been a strange man, stranger still after she left. Most folks thought she'd finally seen sense and gotten out while she could, but Mrs. Sue didn't put such stock in gossip.

Still, it was a steady income for work she would have had to do for her own household anyway—for Mr. Swan had graciously given her and her two small children a small side-house on his property, Green Gables, as part of her benefits.

This morning, a bright and beautiful day in late June, Mrs. Sue was dusting the sitting room when, to her shock, Charles Swan himself appeared. He rarely left his own room upstairs but when he did it was to go for one of his strange, ambling walks that seemed to bear no purpose, or to work himself ragged in his fields with his two hired hands, Tom and Jimmy. He most certainly did _not_ come down to the sitting room to chat.

"Tom is running into town this afternoon, Mrs. Sue," he informed her brusquely, as was his wont. "I'll head take dinner in my room. But have the supper table set for two."

Then he was gone without a backward glance, off down the dirt road. As a Swan, he had inherited and made enough money from his vast land on the Island to have hired a driver, but with the rest of the Islanders living on rather slim means, he felt it too ostentatious and unnecessary for such niceties. So his hired hands usually did the running of errands for him, and if he felt so inclined, he occasionally went himself. That much of his statement was not out-of-the-ordinary.

But Mrs. Sue was clean flummoxed. Where was Tom going? Why did the table need to be set for two? Was he bringing back a woman for Mr. Swan? Had he secretly remarried and told no one?

A gossip Mrs. Sue was not, but even she could not resist this latest development. After setting said table for two and starting supper on the stove, she grabbed her secondhand baby carriage and bundled her twins into it, hustling down the street to the nearest house to spread her tale and seek suppositions.

* * *

The sun had just set when the Swan horse and buggy reappeared over the edge of the hill from Newbridge. Mrs. Sue had long since returned to her post, her children sleeping soundly in a bassinet she'd placed in the nearby pantry while she cooked supper for Mr. Swan and his mystery guest.

She peeked surreptitiously out the window as the buggy pulled into the yard, and watched as Tom's dark silhouetted figure clambered out, handed the reins off to Jimmy, and then reached back into the buggy to pull out a tiny second passenger.

Much to tiny to be a new wife, Mrs. Sue instantly determined. The little person was no bigger than a child, and looked very thin for its size. She pulled away from the window as Tom brought the new arrival in through the kitchen door.

"Mrs. Sue," he greeted with casual friendliness, smiling. Mrs. Sue smiled back but couldn't keep up the farce for long—she was far too caught up in the mystery of the new child.

She'd come traipsing in after Tom, a spry little thing, with a long braid of wavy brown hair over her shoulder. The hat over said hair was black, plain, but of very expensive quality, that much Mrs. Sue could detect. She wore a fine black dress with no shawl or travel coat, so it was dusty from the trip. The little girl's face was very pale, her large brown eyes sad but curious of her new surroundings.

Breaking into her speculation, Jimmy came in after the two carrying several bags over his shoulder and in his hands. "Where ya want 'em, Mrs. Sue?"

"What?" she asked blankly. "Why, Tom Sloane, who _is_ this?"

"Isabella Swan," he replied, shaking his head with sympathetic shock. "Arrived off the midday train in Bright River, back to live with her father, I reckon."

The child herself said nothing, but her eyes followed the conversation closely.

"Oh, my," exclaimed poor Mrs. Sue faintly. "Well, put her things in the gable room, I suppose, thank you, Jimmy. You, too, Tom, for getting her."

"Of course, ma'am. Good night, ladies."

The two men departed to complete their tasks and head home for the evening. The girl, Isabella Swan apparently, and Mrs. Sue stared at each other awkwardly.

"Well," Mrs. Sue finally tried, "are you hungry? Eight miles is a long journey for a little girl, I'd imagine."

"I'm not so very little, madam, and I quite enjoyed the trip. Prince Edward Island is even more beautiful than I'd imagined it to be. But, yes, I am a little hungry."

Despite the pleasantry of her words, the child's eyes were inexpressive, her face emotionless. She spoke eloquently for a child of eleven, and Mrs. Sue was hard-pressed to find anything to say to her.

"Supper will be in a few moments," she answered uncertainly. "I'm Mrs. Sue, the housekeeper and cook. I suppose your father hired me to look after you."

"Then..." the little girl hesitated, her eyes dimming a bit, "would you call me 'Bella' instead of 'Isabella'? My... my mother called me that. She always said 'Isabella' was a mouthful."

"Of course, dear, if that's what you'd prefer." Mrs. Sue hesitated before asking, "Do you know why your father's brought you here?"

Bella blinked in surprise. "But he hasn't brought me here at all," she declared, her tone blank. "After Mother passed last month, I was _sent_ here. No one back home could afford to keep me."

"A-Ah," replied the older woman awkwardly. She had no idea how to follow that blunt statement. "Well, as I said, supp—"

She was interrupted by one of her children's mewls, which she knew always precipitated the bawling, which would then set the other one off.

"Oh, would you wait right here for a moment? Make yourself right at home, I'll be right back."

Sure enough, as soon as she reached the pantry where the bassinet was standing, the other baby started to sound off. She picked up her boy, who she could tell from his cries was hungry, and was just about to struggle to lift her daughter when:

"Oh, how darling!" came a delighted cry from behind her. She turned in surprise to see that Bella, despite her request, had followed her. "Are they yours?"

Mrs. Sue nodded, blushing in embarrassment. "Yes, I'm sorry if they're a bother."

"Oh, no!" the little girl demurred, laughing. "I love babies. I'm actually very good with them. I used to play with the servants' children back home. May I?"

She extended her little white hands towards her daughter, still shrieking indignantly in her bassinet at not being immediately attended.

Mrs. Sue gave her permission reluctantly, wary of a child holding a child. But it seemed Bella had not exaggerated her abilities: she picked up and cradled her daughter expertly, calming her down with soft murmurs and hums within moments.

"What are their names?" she asked in a cooing voice for the baby's benefit.

"You have my daughter, Leah," Mrs. Sue responded, a note of pride creeping into her voice, "and this is my boy, Seth."

"Hi, Leah," Bella cooed, large brown eyes focused intently on the baby. For the first time, Mrs. Sue saw not a single note of sadness in them. They were bright and interested—not happy, but it was better than before. No child should be so sad.

The baby gurgled back at her before sticking her fist in her mouth. Giggling, Bella inquired, "How old are they? I assume they're twins?"

"Yes, bless them, and twice the work," Mrs. Sue laughed forcedly. "They came shortly after my husband passed on. They're almost six months old."

Suddenly, the Swan girl's intense brown eyes were focused on her own with a serious, speculative look that was quite foreign in a child's face. Finally, in a small, trembling voice as though trying to fight back tears, she asked, "So you have lost someone, too?"

Mrs. Sue knew better than to reply flippantly. She nodded with a solemn look and answered, "Indeed I have, dear. The pain will stay, for you will never stop missing your loved one, but I can promise you, you'll feel better in time." She balanced her son on one shoulder and extended her free hand to gently touch the child's face. "And I'll be here for you, if you like."

Bella cleared her throat and said in a determinedly detached tone, "I would like that very much, thank you." Then, looking around pointedly, she offered, "I can watch the babies while you finish supper, if you like? I noticed you were just setting the table when we arrived."

"Oh, gracious me!" Mrs. Sue cried, alarmed. She'd completely forgotten supper. "Yes, my dear, if you please. You can set out the blanket in their bassinet on the floor and lay them down on that if you don't mind. I'll be done in just a few minutes."

And so said, she set Seth down in the crib and bustled out of the room, hurrying to finish her task before Mr. Swan came downstairs to a meal unready. She'd never had that happen before, and she wasn't eager to experience it.

But unbeknownst to Mrs. Sue, Mr. Charles Swan had already come downstairs several minutes prior. Finding the table partially set with no food ready, he'd entered the kitchen and been drawn towards the voices in the pantry.

At first, he'd frozen at the sight of his daughter, so like her mother—so like _himself_. He had no idea what to say to a little girl, much less his own. She'd been taken from him when she wasn't even a month old, without his knowledge. He didn't know what stories Renée had been filling her head with, but he couldn't be sure they were flattering depictions of himself.

He'd barely rounded the corner to hide when Mrs. Sue waddled out of the room to make his supper. Avonlea was a small town, so of course he'd known Mrs. Sue most of his life. She'd never been a small woman; on the tall side and curvy, but after the birth of her children she'd become much more rounded in every way.

Isabella Marie. Bella, she wanted to be called.

As if she heard his thoughts or sensed his gaze, his daughter suddenly looked up from the blanket on which she lay with Mrs. Sue's babies. She stared at him curiously, obviously wondering who he was. Charles couldn't bear to look at her. Her eyes were his own in color, but they were the exact size and shape of his late, estranged wife's. She'd also inherited her mother's large mouth and high cheekbones. Entirely too like Renée.

Without a word, he turned and walked away.

* * *

"Your father sends his greetings, but he's simply too busy to leave his office for supper tonight," Mrs. Sue announced regretfully to Bella, who had been patiently waiting for said person before beginning to eat.

"What does my father look like?" Bella asked curiously, bending over her meal of roast beef and russet potatoes, some of her favorites though Mrs. Sue could have had no way of knowing that. It was hard to eat thus, for she had happy, bouncing Seth on her lap, and he was determined to grab anything that passed him by on the way to her lips. Giggling, she gave him a small, mashed up bite of her potatoes before popping a bite of beef into her own mouth.

"Mm-mmm!" Seth cheered, waving pudgy little fists about to express his liking of this new food.

"Well, rather like you," Mrs. Sue answered, chuckling at her son's antics. She had a sleepy Leah lounging against a shoulder and looked rather tired herself. Bella supposed it must be hard work to raise two such young children and keep such a large house. "He's tall, with curly brown hair and brown eyes. You'll probably not see him often, Bella. He's a very hardworking man. The livestock and farmlands of Green Gables put out some of the best products the Island knows.

"I think I already have seen him," Bella said quietly, quite at odds with the baby on her lap, who made his desires known quite clearly by lunging face-forward into her potatoes. Bella quickly caught him before he slammed his chin on her plate and reeled him back, laughing as he simultaneously spluttered and blinked in surprise at having caught so _much_ potatoes, before licking his face delightedly. Wiping the rest of the mess off his face as she spoke, Bella continued, "There was a man standing outside the pantry when you left to finish supper. He was halfway 'round the corner, like he was hiding, but he was watching me. I thought he might be my father."

"I think you're right about that." Mrs. Sue hesitated, readjusting her daughter in her arms. "Bella, your father's been alone for a long time. It may take him some time to... get used to having a child again. You'll have to be very patient with him."

Bella smiled at the older woman pleasantly. "I'm not used to having a father or being in this town. _He'll_ have to be very patient with me, too."


	2. A Fallout at Green Gables

Disclaimer: Twilight belongs to Stephenie Meyer and Anne of Green Gables belongs to L.M. Montgomery

* * *

_So damn easy to say that life's so hard  
Everybody's got their share of battle scars_  
_As for me, I'd like to thank my lucky stars _  
_That I'm alive and well_

_It'd be easy to add up all the pain_  
_And all the dreams you sat and watched go up in flames_  
_Dwell on the wreckage as it smolders in the rain_  
_But not me, I'm alive_

_And today, you know, that's good enough for me_  
_Breathing in and out's a blessing, can't you see?_  
_Today's the first day of the rest of my life_  
_And I'm alive and well_

—"I'm Alive," Kenny Chesney with Dave Matthews

* * *

Chapter Two: A Fallout at Green Gables

When Bella Swan awoke the next morning, at first, she wasn't quite sure where she was. Then it all came rushing back with sickening clarity. Her mother had died and she'd been sent here to live with her father.

At first, as always, Bella wanted to cry for the pain of missing her mother, who'd been her constant, happy-go-lucky companion throughout her short life. But she pushed those feelings aside. She didn't bury or suppress them, for her mother had taught her that squelching any feelings was bad for you, but instead she focused on the positives of her life. Her mother had died happily, and now Bella lived in one of the most beautiful places on earth.

Indeed, as she examined her new room and the world outside her window, she had to agree with that statement. She'd been so tired after supper and playing with the babies last night that she hadn't really taken the time to look about the place, but now she set her mind to explore. To start with, her own room.

As Mrs. Sue had said last night to Mr. Jimmy, Bella saw that her new bedroom was a gable. The tall ceilings sloped to a point in the middle far over her head. Her bed was smaller than the own at home, but it was more comfortable she thought. Back home, she'd had too many blankets and pillows always suffocating and catching her legs, but here she had only two quilts and a set of sheets. There was a washstand with a large, ornate mirror hanging above against the wall at the foot of the bed. By the head, against the other wall, was a small nightstand. Across the room, by the large window, was a dressing table and chair. Next to that was a large, wooden closet in which she would have to hang up all her dresses.

The walls were painfully bare. There was a rug on the wooden floors that cheered her, as it added some color to the otherwise nakedly white room. She decided she'd have to convince Mrs. Sue to let her bring some flowers or other arts into it.

Throwing back her blankets, she ran over to her window and tossed it open. Outside was a picturesque wonderland, the kind she'd dreamed of seeing while she and her mother lived in big, busy, exciting New York City. It was calm, steady, and peaceful. Just outside her window was a tall cherry tree in full white bloom. Beyond, on either side of the large, scrupulously tidy yard, were two apple orchards. At the far end of the yard was a beautiful garden, resplendent with flowers of all types and colors. And scattered about the hills and woods that spread out as far as the eye could see, she noted tilled soil patches almost ready for harvest in the fall and large pastures filled with fat, bellowing animals. To her far left, if she leaned out the window, she could see the wide, blue ocean.

It was all so breathtaking that Bella hardly wanted to leave the view, but there was a whole big house to explore, and she didn't want to miss the chance. She called for Mrs. Sue to help her dress, the kind older lady informing her that breakfast would be laid out in precisely fifteen minutes, before she took off to look around.

Her room was situated at the end of a long hall down which were several tall wooden doors. She wondered if her father was home, if he would mind her looking about, before she decided that it was within her rights to get familiar with her new home. How else would she find her way around?

She opened the nearest door to her right and found a lavatory, which was pretty boring so she immediately moved on to the door across the hall. It was an empty bedroom that appeared unused. She supposed a house this big _would_ have several spare bedrooms for guests, though what guests would visit she didn't know. She opened another door to her left and found a larger, more inhabited looking bedroom. There were papers on the nightstand and a cravat on the dresser. This must be her father's room. She quickly closed the door after realizing this. The next two doors were also empty spare rooms, then another bathroom.

Then she found herself at the top of the "front staircase." This had been a fashionable addition to houses in the last decade or so. Front doors and front staircases were grand, meant to dazzle elegant company. Side doors and servants' steps became used by families and everyday guests so as not to dirty the front steps of houses with less means. Her father's house, while large enough to be counted among the finer places Bella had stayed, was not well-staffed. Avonlea was not a poor town, but it wasn't a terribly affluent area, either. Her father probably felt it too grand to employ servants. She decided she liked the idea of caring for her own house.

Downstairs were a few parlors, a sitting room, the grand dining room, kitchen, and pantry. All in all, she thought it a beautiful house, though rather lacking in any personal touches. It felt rather... unloved, to Bella's mind. Like no one really lived here.

"Good morning, dear," Mrs. Sue greeted again, seeing Bella enter the kitchen.

"Good morning. Where are the babies?"

Mrs. Sue smiled. Bella had obviously become quite taken with her children. She wouldn't lie and say it didn't relieve her. She liked the thought of someone paying extra attention to her little ones while she worked, instead of having them entertain themselves in their little bassinet.

"In the pantry, dear."

Bella promptly disappeared into the side room and returned carrying a baby on each hip. After setting the table and laying out the food, Mrs. Sue took Seth and the two sat down to breakfast together, not bothering to wait for Mr. Swan.

"May I ask you some things about yourself, Bella?" Mrs. Sue started, surprising Bella. "Your father has charged me with getting you started in school, and I wanted to know what level you were in when you left the States."

"School?" For some reason, Bella looked simply delighted by this prospect. "I get to go to school?"

"Laws, yes, child!" Mrs. Sue laughed. "But not until it starts up again in September, of course. Didn't you go to school in New York?"

"No. I was taught privately." Bella smiled nostalgically. "Mother said it was too dangerous in the city for me to go off by myself, so she had tutors come to me."

"Do you know what Reader you were in?"

Bella frowned. Her tutors had not taught her based on the public school system, in which children were started at a young age—usually five or six—in primer lessons, and then advanced as they learned, not as they aged. Most children Bella's age would by now be in the Fifth Reader, but it was a fluid system that allowed for more advanced or slow students.

"I think I recall reading stories from the Fourth..." Bella hedged.

"That'll do for now, then." Mrs. Sue smiled. "Can you tell me what those tutors of yours taught you?"

"Oh, ever so much!" Bella replied cheerfully, bouncing Leah on her lap to distract her as the baby reached for her plate. "They taught me to read and write. They showed me all kinds of famous poems and books. I was just about to start learning French when..." Her eyes dimmed.

Mrs. Sue tried to redirect her thoughts with a gentle, "Have you learned any math?"

"A little," Bella replied. "I always liked reading better, so I never learned much math."

"Well, in school it won't matter what your preferences are, Bella," Mrs. Sue informed her. "You are to learn what the master tasks you, no matter the difficulty. And if you do well, you can go on to Queen's Academy to become a teacher yourself one day."

"I always thought I'd like to be a writer," Bella murmured shyly. "Though there isn't much demand for female authors..."

"Well, if you work hard at your studies, I'm sure you can do whatever you please."

* * *

Bella had been at Green Gables for two weeks before she encountered her father again. She'd been out in the garden and orchard, admiring and stopping to smell the blossoms and generally enjoying her free time, when she'd glanced up to see a tall, dark man watching her from the porch.

She stopped, her hands coming to tangle together nervously before her.

"Are... Are you my father?" she asked him, her voice trembling slightly.

The figure nodded once, but said nothing. He also didn't come closer. He stayed on his shaded perch, just watching her.

"Then why do I never see you?" Bella went on curiously. "Don't you... Don't you want to know me?"

"I know enough."

All at once, crushing disappointment and bitter resentment welled up inside the child's tiny chest.

"You don't know _anything_!" she cried fiercely. "Mother was right about you! You're a mean, cold man! You don't know _anything_ about me and now I don't want you to! I don't care if I never see you again!"

So said, bursting into unhappy tears as her last hope of parentage evaporated, Bella fled the garden through the side door.

"Bella, what on—?" Mrs. Sue cried, alarmed, as a pale-faced, sobbing Bella sprinted up the stairs. Then, glancing out the window and seeing her employer, hands in pockets, striding quickly across the garden to the orchard, she came to the conclusion that something had happened between them that Bella had obviously not liked.

She finished setting the tea table to give Bella time to calm herself and placed her children in their bassinet for safe-keeping before heading upstairs. As she neared the end of the hall where Bella's bedroom was, she heard stormy sobbing growing louder. Clearly, five minutes had not been enough time for the child to regain control of herself.

Knocking on the door, she let herself in before waiting for an answer she knew wouldn't come.

"Bella, darling, whatever is the matter?" she asked, pulling the dressing table chair over before the bed.

"He—He—He's so _meeeeaaan_!" Bella cried around hitching breaths.

Mrs. Sue was starting to become truly alarmed. "Bella," she snapped, and the change in her tone made Bella take notice, "you sit up this instant and tell me what happened like a calm, civilized person before you make yourself sick with all this carrying on."

After a great pause, Bella reluctantly dragged herself up to sit at the edge of her bed, sniffling as she tried to stop her flow of tears.

"Now, tell me what happened."

"I... I was out in the garden," Bella began slowly, "and he was there again, just watching me. So I asked him if he was my father, and why I never saw him if he was. I asked if he wanted to know me. And he said he knew _enough_." She spit the last word venomously. "He doesn't care about me at all, Mrs. Sue! I'm just a burden to him here! He wishes I never came! My mother was right about everything!"

Mrs. Sue hesitated, unsure. On one hand, she knew Mr. Swan was a man unaccustomed to children—to _people_, really—and that he probably hadn't meant his words to sound as callous as they had. On the other, she knew he could have been more polite to the fragile child. She'd just lost her mother after all.

"Well," she finally decided, "you had no right to blow up at him like that, Bella. He is your father and your elder—both very good reasons you should respect him. I'm not saying that what he said was right, and believe you me I will have words with him about it—but it was downright naughty of you to behave so. Little girls are to be quiet and sweet, and here you are shrieking at him in the garden! What would the neighbors think, had they heard? Don't you want to make friends here?"

"He's a horrid man," Bella said stubbornly. Then, relenting, "But I'm sorry to have vexed _you_, Mrs. Sue."

Said older woman sighed regretfully. "Well, my dear, as your father has charged me with your upbringing, I'm afraid I'm going to have to confine you to your bedroom until you can apologize for your outburst." Cutting off the tirade she sensed coming from the girl, she added, "And I will talk to him in the meantime about his own errors."

So said, Mrs. Sue took herself back down to the kitchen, checked on the sleeping babies, and then steeled herself as she headed out towards the apple orchard after Charles Swan.

She caught up to him about thirty paces from the house as he meandered about aimlessly, seeming lost in thought.

"Mr. Swan!" she called and he turned.

"Mrs. Sue," he greeted politely but disinterestedly, his tone informing her that he was in no mood for chatting.

"Mr. Swan, I must inform you that you have made a grievous error with your daughter," Mrs. Sue immediately said, giving herself no time to frighten herself into silence. "She is fragile, sir. Her mother passed only last month, and here you are saying you don't want to know her? You are all she has left in this world, sir."

Charles, not meeting her eyes, merely said, "Was that all?"

Mrs. Sue's expression hardened. "Mr. Swan," she said as her final attempt. "I've never set much store in gossip. When all those silly folks in town tittered about your wife leaving and why, I didn't listen. I didn't want to believe something of someone without giving him a fair chance. I thought I'd seen enough working here to realize that you are not the man everyone said you were, but after this... perhaps I was wrong. Now if you'll excuse me, there's a little girl upstairs that needs _someone's_ attention."

* * *

Little Bella Swan, cried out but still stubbornly clinging to her hurt feelings and righteous indignation, sat alone in her room, watching the sunset. Mrs. Sue had brought up her supper, since she was still confined to the bedroom, but she hadn't touched it yet. She had no appetite around the lump still firmly situated in her throat.

She jumped at the knock on her door, but was downright frightened at the figure she saw on the threshold. Her father had come back to torment her some more, she supposed, with how little he cared for her.

But she had promised Mrs. Sue to be more ladylike, so instead of vocalizing her displeasure, she merely raised an eyebrow coldly and silently.

Her father, surprised by this insolence, couldn't help laughing. It had been long since he'd last laughed. He'd forgotten how good it could feel. But Bella's anger grew at the sound of his laughter, and she turned her face haughtily away.

Charles sighed, shutting the door behind him as he entered her room unbidden.

"Look at me," he commanded, and his daughter reluctantly did so, remembering her promise to Mrs. Sue. Charles stepped forward and crouched down before Bella's chair, looking up into her wide eyes. "I'm sure Mrs. Sue told you how busy I am." Bella nodded slowly. Charles smiled a little. "That's not entirely true. While I do have many things to see to, I have a large amount of free time. But I'd never been sure how to use it. I'm a worker by heart, Bella, so to not have some purpose bothers me. Those habits used to irk your mother to no end. She thought I was avoiding her, when really I just didn't know if she'd want me around so often." Bella nodded again, digesting this new piece of information. She still trusted her mother's tale, but knowing her mother as she did, Bella could see the sense in Charles' side. Her father smiled once more, this time wistfully. "You look so much like her," he informed her, her tone sad. "It... It hurt to see you, my dear, and that's why I tried to keep my distance. You reminded me of my youth with her. And your size reminded me how many years she stole from me by taking you away with her. I suppose that all made me very... aloof, and for that, I apologize. I shall try to be more attentive to you from now on. In dwelling on how many years I've lost, I lost sight of how young you still are, and you just lost your mother. You still need a parent to guide you. I hope you can make do with me?"

Hesitantly, Bella giggled. It was clear her father was trying to make her smile, although it seemed his humor was a bit rusty. But she honestly appreciated the effort.

"I'm sorry for yelling at you," she mumbled contritely, reaching a small white hand out to touch his. "It was rude and disrespectful and could have been humiliating for you had the neighbors heard me."

Charles nodded. "So while I work on being a better father for you, how about you work on controlling that temper a little bit? It'll be like we're schoolmates, huh?"

Bella smiled and eagerly supplied, "Mrs. Sue says I get to go to school here! A _real_ school! Is that true, Father?"

"It most certainly is," Charles agreed, getting to his feet. "There are no fancy tutors out here to engage for you, and I believe it's healthier for you to interact with children your own age instead of being cooped up in the house all the time. You'll go to Sunday School starting this week, and then off to real school in September."

Bella thought he rather missed the fun of school with all his practical talk, but she was beginning to realize that this was just how her father was—very practical. To her over-emotional mother, that practicality would have seemed cold and reserved, but Bella was beginning to see that underneath his gruff exterior, Charles Swan was just as feeling as anyone else. He just didn't really know how to show it.

So she was going to teach him.


End file.
